Pug-faced Hispanic drinks herself so numb she doesn't even notice when last night's chimichanga is hanging halfway out her asshole. Her laugh is as bad as her hygiene. Sounds like something Steven Urkel would emit while making love to the dude from Wonder Years. Watch this one all the way through.
I was gonna tag one girl as "Funky Town" to see how many newcomers Google themselves right off the Internet, but I choose a more honorably path. So what did we end up learning today? Sharp objects and SNES soundtracks work extremely well together. That's what. Support cyclo-boob [HERE]
College level alcoholism and risk seeking behavior has led them to a ratchet motel, wasted off vodka red bulls and making a quick $100 each. Shouldn't be any surprise that these girls never did porn again.
Some of you may be asking the question: "How the hell did it take you so long to get something together for [Hannah Hays]? The fuckin story writes itself.". Honestly... it's overwhelming. Her rabbit hole seems to have more alternate endings than Baldur’s Gate 3.
Here it is; A collection of bros that last about as long as I do during a Marvel film released after End Game. Normally these misfits would be thrown into the compost pile and forgotten, but these speedruns need to be seen to be believed.
So you think Dr. Phil has covered all the bases of marital disasters? Well it's time to reevaluate bitch. These pioneers of female empowerment do it all. And by all I mean everything except give us the long awaited sequel to Karen's Krapper: Volume 27. Alexa, play Big Bottom by Spinal Tap.
Some men need oral stimulation to get off. Others, a $20 shopping spree at Buffalo Wild Wings. And then there's this Vlad the Impaler lookin' mother fucker who needs nothing more than basic silverware to send his himself over the big-O rainbow. Hint: May be better enjoyed while listening to this classic piece.
A rousing assembly of women that don't believe teh night is over until their clout levels have reached unmeasurable proportions. Reminiscent of a reoccurring dream I keep having involving Brock Lesnar and Long John Silver’s Cocktail Sauce.
Everything in life has a proper explanation if you open your mind. Except the homie trying to scrub daddy his dirty walnut on a Tuesday afternoon in broad daylight around the 1:45 mark. NORAD will hear about this.
You ever show up for the orgy but just jerk off by yourself? Or have you ever managed to be cringier than a wannabe white rapper with a pick in his ginger afro? Yea... me either. YAY!
